Southern Gentleman
by Greaser-Love1008
Summary: Oh poor little Macie Havons. Her rich daddy died and her mother is an unstable witch. She moves to the other side of town and learns things are rougher than they seem. With Sodapop of course.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the outsiders or any of the characters S.E. Hinton does. I only own Macie and her parent(s). By the way this is a Sodapop Curtis love storaayyyyy(: For Greasiergirlie :3 Enjoy!**

**Macie's point of view. **

He's dead. Gone. Lost. Fallen. Deprived. Of life that is. He's 6 feet under, plunging through our deep dark secrets that are hidden for a reason. Down to the devils workshop to experiment. To determine his afterlife. My father isn't worthy of his presence. Or any ones presence. Although, he didn't deserve to die that way.

*****************Flash Back***************************

"DAAAAADDDDDD?" I shouted. I got my last report card for the year and I was finally done with my junior year of high school. I'll be spending my last year of high school looking at colleges out of state. That's all my dad ever wanted of me. If I didn't meet his standards, all hell would break lose. It made me independent and disciplined in a cruel sick manner.

"Dad..?" I scampered across the dark, mahogany wood floor until I reached his bedroom door. It had fine crafted, vintage, French handles with these gorgeous symbols engraved into them. Compared to the other side of Tulsa, we were rich. My mother doesn't have a job though. She just sits at home and spends all my fathers money. I never have liked my mother, never will either.

There I saw it, my father lying dead on his bed. With a gun shot wound to his head and blood pouring out.

"Dad...?" I croaked. Barley managing a whisper with out bawling my eyes out right into his chest. His cheep cologne didn't match the putrid scent of blood. His blood.

*********************End of Flashback********************

The scent of his blood wouldn't be that lovely. Don't ask me how I know, I'm his daughter, I know everything. Now I'm stuck living with my mother. Wait, scratch that. My mother has no job and can barley manage to keep 20 dollars with out spending it all. I'm 17 almost 18 in July. I'll be moving out of my fine house to a shady little cot. On the other side of town. I'll be lucky if I don't get robbed in my sleep. How horrible.

There goes my father, six feet under. Clawing against the coffin trying to escape. His souls slowly going through that horrid transformation. That makes it into one of the devils minions. The ones that creep into your house and watch your every move. Waiting for the right time to attack. Catching you at your weakest. Then killing his prey with a single swipe to the neck. Nothing a new "greaser" girl can't handle.

I have two boxes and a small suitcase. This is my new life. This and that shady cot on the corner of murder and robbery. My dad was my rock. My money source. I have **no** job. I have no stable source of income. The hell am I supposed to do? I guess I'll have to get out of my house first and find a job. A decent one too. What to wear, what to wear. Skirt? No. Short skirt? Yes ma'am. Tight, long sleeved, crimson red, low cut V-neck? I think yes.

My looks aren't any thing special. Big brown curls with piercing gray eyes. Like storm clouds waiting for something secure to hover over, before it drenched the poor city and the helpless people lost in the pain it releases. Giving it all to someone else to handle. Who knows nothing about it. Just like my mother. Thank the hard to believe lord I look nothing like that traitor. After I move out, that pansy isn't getting any of money. Nada. Zilch. What's mine is mine and no one else's. Greedy right? Not if you had my child hood. With memories that keep lurking at the back of your mind, nipping at every fresh thought and converting them into rancid nerves.

The environment around me was quickly changing. Tall buildings with nicely dressed people giving me horrible looks. To, shady houses and men with bad postures. If greasers are known for there fights, they should know that the slouchier the posture, the easier it is to get stabbed. It's something my old music teacher in grade school taught me. Some pointless ramble about your diaphragm. Must I remind her that we were in music class, not health?

And there it was. A rusty metal gate waiting for my entrance. No way am I touching that thing. I took the point of my hells and kicked the door open, trying to get to the door with out dropping any of the boxes. Or my suitcase.

This is the house? All it was, was a ripped up couch with a coffee table. There was a small kitchen area with worn out pots and pants of to one side. The walls needed a serious paint job and the bathroom probably had roaches. I found my way to my bedroom, which wasn't so hard considering the fact that it was the only bedroom in the house. My bed was off to one corner and only consisted of a mattress with springs sticking out of it. Home Sweet Home.

First things first. I need to find a job. Wait no, before that. Time to fluff my hair. It's bouncy enough, I guess. A spritz of hairspray wont hurt a bit. Two boxes and one suitcase full of survival tools. Wheres the hairspray. Shit. 4:23. Gray storm clouds were settling over head and let out a low rumble. I better go find a job before it starts to rain.

The guys kept looking meaner, and tougher as I kept getting farther and farther into town. They looked like they could kill. In front of me I saw a huge fight going on with a bunch of greasers surrounding them. To the right I saw a sign that said, "DIO". Dio? What kind of name is that. Looks decent enough.

**A/N: Oh hey there! Well this is the first chapter and I'll be updating again on Tuesday. I don't know if you read my other story, Embers, but I got bored of it so I made some crappy ending and ended it. This is a different case! I kind of like the character I made up so I might spend some more time working on this. Oh and the "dio" is just the dingo. Just clearing things up. ~Stay Pretty. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Macie's Point of View.**

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I had like 5 in what 2 or 3 hours? This is my second fan fic so..It's a big deal to me lol. Other than that, le chapter 2 at your service ~ Stay Pretty **

The DIO was, well lovely. I guess. It's perfect for a cozy first date. That is if you don't mind being date raped. To my right: A bunch of filthy booths covered in booze and left by their previous owners. To my left: A counter with a man working behind it. It's a pretty simple place if you ask me. Food, booze, hot waitresses. No wonder this place isn't out of business yet.

"Excuse me, mister. But do you work here. The DIO?" The man was bald with beads of sweat forming around his mustache. He had blue eyes that were hard to see because they were so small. He kept squinting as he tried to size me up. After a few seconds his tense expression softened up a bit and he let out a chuckle.

"The DIO? You mean the Dingo little miss?" The Dingo? The sign said DIO for sure. Unless I'm hallucinating.

"Excuse me sir, but the sign said DIO for sure."

"Little Missy, we're in the other side of town. Those hoods probably snatched it one night. No need worry. Now what's a lady like you doing here?" A lady like me? What does he mean by that. I'm wearing a short skirt and a really tight shirt, aren't I? How could I not be blend in?

"I need a job." They could defiantly use another worker. The leather seats are torn apart and the stuffing is hanging out. Theres booze all over the tables. All the waitresses are just standing there letting these mindless imbeciles hit on them. Desperate much?

"Well, what would you like to do," the bald man said," you could be a waitress or a bar maid. Which ever suits your abilities the best." He finished of his sentence with a wink. If this man thinks that he could just hit on me like that. Well, he's out of his mind. Must be why he's working here.

"Erm, before we continue. What's your name?" This man could be a total rapist for all I know.

"Graits. Simon Graits." He flashed me a coffee stained smile and let out a huff of air. Tuna. This guy needs to see a dentist. Well at least he didn't seem familiar. At all. A new job and a new house also means a new life.

"Nice to meet you..," I said. My mind was still rambling on about my qualities. Would I be suited for a bar maid, or a waitress?

Waitress: Needs a good smile, eye contact, alluring voice, and a good memory. Check, check, check, and check.

Bar Maid: Slutty, sultry, big chested, long legged, seductive.

I think I'll stick with being a waitress.

"Id like to be a waitress. I have all the right qualities. Besides, I'm a real people person."

"Oh I bet you are. Maybe you can show me some of those, er, skills. Once my shifts over." My heart started to pound faster and his eyes seemed to get bigger. With hope.

"When hell freezes over. I'm only 17 go pick up a broad your age. Now when does my shift start."

"Yeah, well you ain't a real looker. I'll go talk to my boss." He grumbled. For an old man he's quite the grouch. Not good, not good, not good.

"I'll wait here." I said with a winning smile. I always get my way. I always have.

He sauntered over to the back of the dingo and disappeared behind a door. I turned around and leaned against the bar and took in my surroundings. There was some kids playing in a corner and a couple breaking up. The girl slapped the boy and the boy begged for forgiveness. Nothing new.

"You got the job." He sneered. I flinched and turned around.

"When..do I start?"

"Now if you want. There's an apron and a note pad back there. Write your name down on a sticky note and slap it on your apron. Good luck." With that he disappeared behind that door again. Leaving me to navigate through the dingo my self.

A sticky note? How unprofessional. All the diners that I used to go to with daddy had pins with the waiters/waitresses names. Besides I don't even like the color yellow. It makes my eyes look icky.

At the very back of the dingo there was a ratty looking apron. It was purple and shredded. There a few holes, rips, and tears. Mostly around the bottom.

"I better be paid extra." I mumbled. Hopefully no one heard me. I put my hair up in a bun and plastered on the most fake smile I could manage.

I picked up my note pad and pen and wobbled out the door. I was still trying to get used to these heels. For the most part, my feet were very slim. But I swear these heels got smaller just for me. How pleasant.

3 boys walked in and sat down at a booth. One of them had very greasy dark hair and was glaring at the youngest boy. He had some car grease smothered on his shoulders and his eyes looked mean and scary.

The other boy who seemed oblivious to the rivalry between his friends was rather handsome. His dark brown eyes searched for happiness and found it in the weirdest situations. His hair didn't have a lot of grease in it, but it was a seducing shade of brown. Closer to a gold than anything else. He had a smile plastered on his face. Only this time it was real.

The youngest looking boy had a misery practically written in his eyes. He barley smiled and just mumbled once in a while. He had greenish gray eyes and reddish brown hair. He kind of looked like his friend, the one with the gold hair. He tried to stay happy though, which is something that I could work on.

Well, my job is to wait tables, not judge the customers and creep on them from a distance.

"Can I help you boys with anything?" The greasy haired boy and the golden hair boy suddenly shut up and eyed me with curiosity.

"Yeah we'd like a piece of you and maybe a friend or two on the side." Said the greasy haired boy. Pigs.

"Either order the food or get out." I said with venom spilling in my voice.

"Lay off Steve. Just tell her what you want," the golden haired boy turned his head towards me and flashed a smile," I'm Sodapop."

**A/N: Sorry if the characters seem out of character. But, that was chapter two! And yeah, I know I said that I would update tomorrow instead of today. Oh well. ~Stay Pretty **


	3. Chapter 3

**Macie's Point of view**

**A/N: Another 3 reviews. Hmm I'm on a role lol. On my other story I barley got 2 in one day! Thanks so much! ~Stay Pretty**

"Macie. What do you want to order?" I said briskly. I'm not available. At least to these kind of boys. They probably don't even know what real love is.

"Hey, Hey, Hey," Sodapop said," take it easy now. Just give us some time to order and we'll uh call you over here." He started smiling as if to ask me if that's okay. His big brown eyes just held so many memories, I couldn't help but to feel bad for the boy.

"Fine." I walked back over to the counter and let out a huff of breath.

Some girl with dirty blond hair stormed right into the door. Letting the door slam close behind her.

"BECAREFULL, WE ACTUALLY PAY FOR THOSE THINGS." Heh, having authority felt pretty good.

"What does it matter? We're all screwed at the end."

"You dig alright. You buyin' food or what..? What's your name?"

"Ashleigh, and uh yeah, get me a whiskey or something." Whiskey? The hell? I started working here today. Can't she notice I'm a waitress and not a bar maid. Can't she see that I don't actually look like some slut. This shirt is designer you know? Most girls can't even afford this stuff. Wait neither can I. Daddy always buys me what I want. Bought. I meant bought. Daddy can't buy shit no more.

'I'm a waitress. You'll have to wait 'round here for another guy to come out here. Besides I got customers waiting for me." I saw Sodapop and Steve start whistling obnoxiously and I would defiantly lose my job if they continued that. The Ashleigh chick turned her head and saw that I was staring at Sodapop.

"That's one doll you got there. A guy like that usually pay 'round $15." She gave me a wink and left to go find a bar maid.

Pay? Why the hell would he need to pay. Pay for what exactly? Unless she's talking 'bout the tip.

"You guys ready to order yet?" I noticed Sodapop still smiling and laughing and thought,"Why can't I be that happy?"

"Yeah 3 cheese burgers extra bacon, no lettuce, or tomato, wait scratch that one slice of tomato on one of the burgers, get rid of the cheese on a burger but keep the bacon, 3 large fries, but make sure you cook them right. Like make sure they aren't soggy or anything. And lets see...Drinks! Oh, right! 2 large Pepsis' and one medium Pepsi for the little champ." He finished, while he started ruffling the younger ones hair.

"Wait..What?" My memory wasn't that good.

"You're job is to take our orders, not stare at us from a distance.." Steve said. I swear he had a nice long name of profanities ready for me but Sodapop interrupted him.

"Lay off Steve, it's perfectly fine. I'll write it instead!" He grabbed my note pad and pen and his hand started running across the page while writing down his order.

"Oh..uh you do that?" This boy was something real. He handed me the note pad and just gave me a huge smile while running his hand through his hair. Will not giggle, will not giggle, will not giggle. I started to walk away when I heard Steve mutter.

"Well ain't that a real broad. Just look at the size of those-"

"AHEM!" I interrupted. People these days. I fixed my apron and continued walking. I left the order in the kitchen and walked back into the room behind the bar. It was full of girls with big hair. Some were smoking cigarettes. Some where snapping there gum loudly.

"Who is **she**" The black haired girl said with disgust. She let out a long drag on her cigarette and I started coughing up my lungs.

"I'm, uh, Macie. Do you mind smoking that in here?"

"Listen doll face. We were all here first. Wait your turn." I didn't want to stay there any longer so I just left and went to the kitchen to check up on the food. The burgers looked almost done but I wanted to flip them over. Just for fun.

"And what do you think you're doing?" A husky man said as he walked over to me. He was drying his hands on a rag and cracked his knuckles. This is a scary assed place.

" I just wanted to check up on the food. I just thought the customers were getting impatient."

"That's my job. Not yours. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." He said while he flipped the burgers and put the fries in..grease? I think that's what it is.

"Oh, I, Uh, okay. I'll be back in a few.. I guess." I left the kitchen and headed back to Sodapop's booth.

"The foods almost ready. Well the burgers look almost ready. The fries just started cooking. I'll be back in a few." I looked down onto Sodapop again and started melting. Right there on the spot. Like a fire has spread from him and warmed your heart. Like hot chocolate on a cold winter night. Looking up at the stars and thinking of all the possibilities.

"Why don't you stay a while. We sure could some company, can't we Steve, Ponyboy?"

**A/N: Yes, my chapters are short. I hate writing about the same thing for a while. Sorry if it seems if Sodapop smiles too much. The book said he smiles so much it makes other people smile. I'm going by the book and not the movie. ~ Stay Pretty **


	4. Chapter 4

This is making me feel really bad. But, this was a fail of a story. It's going no where. So, I'm giving up on it but keeping the name Macie in my next story that will hopefully be more entertaining. I'm having major writers block. Till then! ~Stay Pretty


End file.
